Lifeline
by castronomicaaal
Summary: Getting shot doesn't feel like you probably think it would.


Getting shot doesn't feel like you probably think it would.

It isn't instant pain, instant terror, not when you don't see it coming.

Instead, it's like a surprise you don't quite understand. You know something's happened, but you just can't put your finger on what. Or, at least, that's what it felt like for Hanna. No instant pain, instant terror, just...surprise. And shock.

The pain comes later.

For now, she lies still on the floor. She can hear Ezra's frantic voice as he talks to her while he attempts to stop the bleeding, can feel his hands on her clammy flesh in his struggles to do so. But she just can't find the words to talk back, to tell him she feels fine. It's okay. Nothing is wrong.

Hanna's eyes flutter closed in peace.

She somehow isn't even surprised when she reopens them and spots Alison standing in the doorway, a nail file in hand. She looks bored. Typical. Even a school shooting isn't spicy enough for Alison DiLaurentis.

"You look pale, Han." She comments, glancing over. "Try more blush next time."

This time, Hanna can speak. "Is this what it feels like to die? Like nothing? Like floating on a cloud?"

Alison laughs. "Oh Han," she mumbles, shaking her head. "You're far from dead."

She doesn't know whether or not she finds relief in Alison's sentiment. "Okay."

"Just okay? You're not gonna live with an attitude like that." Alison scoffs. "You need to fight if you wanna make it out of this alive."

Hanna doesn't understand, but she nods anyway. "And you? Did you fight?"

This pulls Alison closer. She walks slowly towards the blonde on the floor, her heels clicking loudly with each step. She kneels down beside Hanna and presses a hand to her shoulder. The skin beside her eyes crinkles slightly and she licks at her lips.

"I never got the chance to fight, Han. Not like this. I just...I died."

Hanna thinks maybe she sounds bitter. She probably should.

"Did it happen like the report said?" Hanna just can't help herself from asking, from wondering. They all wonder. Did she really suffocate down there, all alone in the dirt?

Alison spits out a chunk of muddy debris, it lands beside Hanna's head with a thud. She shivers and Alison smirks.

"Oh honey," she offers, stroking Hanna's cheek afterwards. "You're growing colder, paler. It won't be long now, I don't think."

As if on cue, Hanna turns and spits up her own pile of blood.

Suddenly, she comes to life. Every feeling in her body, every ache and every shiver, she can feel it all. The bullet wound in her stomach kills, it hurts worse than anything else she's ever felt on earth before. Hanna begins to panic as she fully takes the situation in.

"Please Ali," she cries, reaching out with her shaking hand. "Please don't let me die, I'm not ready to go."

Alison scoffs, "You think I was?" And then, softer, "I can't choose whether you live or die, Han. Only you get to make that choice."

"I want to live," she whispers, voice cracking. Blood continues to bubble up from in between her blue lips. "Please, God," she sputters out. "I want to live."

She can picture Caleb's face as plain as day right before her. And then Emily's, Spencer's, and Aria's. Her father Tom, his wife and Kate. And then she pictures her mother, dead in her own coffin. Died from a broken heart.

Hanna weeps and closes both eyes. "I want to live!" She screams.

When she opens her eyes, Alison is gone. So is the blood on her lips.

Ezra sits before her, tears streaming down his face with his own shirt wrapped around Hanna's lower abdomen.

"Hanna please, stay with me! Keep those eyes open!" Ezra tells her. She can hear the fear in his voice and vaguely wonders what his voice will sound like when he tells Aria that she is dead.

Will Caleb cry at the funeral, unashamed to show his emotion in front of a group of people? How long will her mother last before she too succumbs, unable to bear the loss of her baby girl?

Hanna's eyes open wider. She fights with everything she has to stay awake.

"Ezra," she whispers, her voice hoarse and low. "Please, help. Please." It's all she can manage to get out.

He nods, taking her hand within his. "Soon," he promises. "The medics will be here soon."

Neither know if that's true or not, but both are willing to delude themselves into thinking the best of the situation. Hanna's life literally depends on it.

Her stomach stings like fire, it aches to breath. Hanna wonders how long she can hold on. Then she remembers Ali, remembers the dirt she'd spit out, and she vows to herself to hold on for as long as she can.

Hanna wants to live, she chooses to live.

It's her only option. 


End file.
